Time dilation is a useful tool, especially when traveling long distances and making observations. With Harmonia parked 100 kilometers from the edge of the Forbidden Zone, her gravity-lens telescopes were able to track the activity of the flying crab creatures over several days while it only took a few hours of relative time for the crew.
A room was configured near the upper hangar with a large display table. Here it was possible to see the crabs flitting about like midges over the corpse of the island-sized monster and one of the giant snails. Satellite displays showed the creatures both eating the remains and carting sections off into the underground tunnels, which Harmonia couldn't scan due to interference from the area.
Neesa has been taking copious notes and asking a lot of questions, though mostly about the time dilation system than anything else. Her examination of the toporgic fragments already recovered was inconclusive - at Harmonia's altitude Abaddon's already weak magic was effectively nonexistent.
"Well," Remiel notes, "it's pretty clear that we'll need to collect some of that monster meat to feed to a captive air-crab."
"This is all suspiciously sounding like a repeat of my old career," Tasha remarks from the couch she's laying across, her head comfortably tucked against Katherine's arm as she watches the display.
Katie's other arm is holding her own data pad, where she's been going over Dr. Zerachiel's notes on the toporgic material. "The crabs don't leak, have you noticed?" she asks Tasha. "That is.. they don't leak any electromagnetic noise."
Tasha frowns at the observation, momentarily glancing at her own datapad -- which she has to trade between hands and angle up in order to see without mocving her head. Disturbing her comfortable position being an unacceptable sacrifice. "I hadn't noticed, but that is very odd considering what they're doing. Maybe they're scavaging all eee-em through their own crystal arrays. That'd make them very efficent. It also means whatever they're doing would be interesting as a method of concealment."
"Well, they don't broadcast to communicate then," Remy offers. "Tight-beam maybe? Or else they just don't use it to communicate at all.. which would imply the beams used by the big one weren't sending instructions, but directly controlling the toporgic. That.. seems counterproductive from an evolutionary perspective. They may not be symbiotic with the big one after all."
"You're assuming they are life forms and not machines or golems," Neesa points out, giving the magic-user perspective.
"Bioroids," Shojo suggests. "Like Vastille. But without pilots?"
"Magical creatures are just lower-tier manipulations expressiving themselves as normal physicality," Tasha remarks, half-roling to get even more comfort as she does. "Which might suggest they're Sifran devices. They might even be 'crude' Sifran devices made from simpler methods than undermining subatomic identities and other such things. The Sifra should be able to manipulate space-time on a much greater scale than the galactics and we know they're in serious trouble, so maybe they're from another world? A remote Sifran outpost, called here as a backup? Or called from an unaligned world, or another reality."
"We need to dissect one," Remiel notes. "We've never seen any Sifran servitor beings before, if they really have any. So not much use speculating in that direction. These things are behaving like insects.. like ants. Breaking up the big one and bringing it back to their hive."
"Well they have the ... Uh ... sner-vi-flem-bim," the hybrid woman hedges, not wanting to wrestle her datapad up again. "The modified Aelfin, who are said to be infested with crystal structures. They live deep on Behemoth. These creatures are also embedded with crystals but that might be a coincidence." Tasha scratches her nose; it's worth the comfort risk. "That reminds me! Katie!" She risks a look up. "I have a mission for you, if you accept it. Very important."
"Seeing as how I can't leave the ship.. what sort of mission is it?" Katie asks curiously.
"Sure you can leave, it's just very dangerous," insists Tasha with a grin. "That's why they make me do it. The Argentine sisters are invincible after all." Wiggling until she can get her datapad -- an inevitable sacrifice -- she manipulates it for a while, then Katie's flashes the now familiar notification of file transfers. "You cna do this later, but what I need you to do is learn the Aelfin language. It's like singing, so naturally we all thought of you. The Aelfin are the Sifran Clients and their language is recognized by the Sifran system."
Katie blinks at this, and peruses the files. "So.. does that mean the Aelfin on Sinai can control things?" she asks.
"I doubt they have that much control. The Sifra have existed since the beginnings of intelligent conventional life in this galaxy and maybe in all galaxies. Maybe this univere. They're the oldest of the Old Ones, but not the oldest of the oldest. And some beings-- Uhm, I, what's the word ... " Tasha pauses, face scrunching up in that familiar way she does whenever she's trying to pull Nora's memeories. "Digress. I digress. What I mean is, they're too smart to let their servants muck everything up. The Aelfin are dark world primitives by now, they have even less idea how the technology works than we do. The Sifran technology is extremely advanced."
"But learning the language will help?" Katie asks. "I can work on the structure and syntax, but I still need to hear a native speaker at some point. I think there's one with the mages near Gateway though."
"It'll be useful if we find anything written down I imagine," Remiel says.
"Of course ... " And here Tasha pauses for a moment, frowning. " ... the Sifra have lost a lot. The their whole infrastructure is a mess, so who knows how many safeguards still work? How much control they have? Old Warloq thought if they had any control they'd have killed all the mages by now. Probably the rest of us right after." She then nods, belatedly. "It has some control though, we know that. Some effect. Warloq thought so too.I'll arrange a meeting for you with the Mage, when we get back. He or she knows me; I think they all do by now."
"Aelfin were once renown for making powerful magic artifacts, back before they seemed to disappear," Neesa explains. "There have only been a few Aelfin mages though since they started leaving their valley a few years ago."
"I wonder what happened? They might have been recalled for maintenance duties, leacing only enough to restore their numbers." Tasha taps her nose. "That also suggests they had some way to distribute across the planets if they didn't just go somewhere on Sinai. I've been wodnering what the Sifra FTL drives migth be likem but I think they might be able to open gates directly between worlds where-ever they want to, at least on their own worlds."
"Actually their valley is only reachable by air, and some vampire Eeee had moved in and there was some sort of conflict so they didn't let the Aelfin leave as a result," Neesa notes. Then snaps her fingers and says, "Oh.. you need to find Mage Iona too. She's probably on Sinai, but you can get a message to her through the Guild rep at the Gateway camp."
Tasha finally pushes up to seated, stretching and yawning cavernously before faling back and sliding back Katie-ward, if not exactly to Katie. "Hokay. Why's that? The trouble is we're already knee-deep in interference, side-projects and a host of other issues and I'm not eager for any more."
"Iona is a Master Earth Mage," Neesa explains. "She was Mage Envoy's mentor, and probably the best at force manipulation and gravity magic. She helped develop the gravity enchantments needed for heavy construction on Caroban. If you want to unlock this toporgic stuff, she's your best bet."
Tasha nods, but scrunches her muzzle up regardless. "If only Eli were here. I hope the Titanians can get the message through, we desperately need someone else to handle the scientific load and the cadets aren't ready yet." She pushes off with a foot, ending up with head head in Katherine's lap after sliding down the couch. "Katie, save me from delays and endless prepatory work?"
"Well, according to Eli's notes.. this stuff is just congealed gravity and other forces in a pseudo-crystalline state," Katie says. "So.. uh.. might as well be magic, as far as we're concerned. If magic is Sifra technology like you say, then it's the most powerful tool imaginable. We can't begin to match it with our level of technology."
"Well, none of the conventional sentients can. That's why the Sifra were able to annhilate them. The Old Ones, the First Ones, and they'd have done it to us too," notes Tasha, who gathers her hands together in to fists, then expands them rapidly. "Kaboom. Only the oldr beings, like the Outsiders and extra-dimensionals are mroe dangerous. Some of the Old Ones came close, but not close enough in the end. That's why the Progenitors interfered. They just didn't realize how convoluted it all is."
"So if I seem impatient that's why, I do't just have to deal with this. This is like a ... A hill in my fligth path. I have mountains to deal with and this is taking too long. I bet he knows that too," concludes Tasha, who shakes her head.
"Sifra-tech defies the laws of reality," Remiel notes. "When I learned some of what magic was commonly used for on Sinai.. it was hard to wrap my head around. Hydrogen and Helium for airships is created with Air Magic. Helium. That's fundamental transmutation of atomic elements that would otherwise require a thermonuclear reaction."
"Whatever that means," Neesa says. "But the things you say this weird material can do is basically Earth Magic stuff."
"Ser Heraphel suggests they alter reality at a deeper level than atomic manipulation. Maybe lower than quantum? The, um, what did he call it ... " Tasha picks up her datapad, reading a moment before putting it aside, " ... secret channel manipulation is what my notes describe it as. I think he called it something else, but I found an old hypothesis about it and added the description. They modify what everything thinks it is. Oxygen molecule? Not anymore, now you think you're copper. Like that."
"Like reality is a big computer. Like a virtual reality simultaion. They change the underlying data or at least the expression of that data, what we see. So they're nto only advanced but they're probably the most alien of the conventional sentient beings, though I'm sure they coudl talk to us if they wanted," the hybrid concludes.
"That may be the old theory of 'privileged' bands of communication. Stuff deeper than A-Level hyperspace quantum-entanglement," Remiel says, looking uncertain. "It's been awhile since I had to study any hyperspace physics."
Tasha rolls her head and nods to Remiel. "That's what Ser Heraphel told me, anyway. I don't know if the other hyper-advanced technologies use the same method, such as the Harrowers, Progenitors, and so on. They ay do the same thing in different ways, or they may have their own rules from their own realities which are incomprehensible to us and orur reality."
"He-Who-Moves left our reality without even causing a vacuum implosion. That scared the Terragens," Tasha adds. She rubs her nose, ears flicking, then says, "I wish I knew what to do with all of this. That's why I want it to be over, I'm not sure I can handle this forever."
"Well, for us quantum-resonance is the most advanced tech we've got," Remiel explains. "A hyperspace pulse is used instead of laser, radio or neutrino, and we read back the 'spectrum' that gets returned to map out the quantum signatures of the materials the target is made of. That's how Nora was able to conclude that Katha-hem is using stator matter in its make-up."
"I hope it'll all be enough. For now we're on our own. Or mostly. We just have to keep going and doing our best with what we have. Speaking of which." The half-Vartan pushes herself up and places her hand son the edge of the couch. "I feel eager to get going. All this waiting is making it worst and I've rested enough. There's a planet to protect and places to go, so our enemy needs to get out of the way or get in its grave so we can be safe and move on."
"A more advanced technology may be able to use that to alter or cause interference with targeted matter, or to set up ad-hoc entanglement," the doctor continues. "We can create fake atoms that produce the signature of real ones, for instance. We can cause optical entanglement between them for limited range instantaneous communication, but it's theoretically possible to do more."
From the edge of the couch Tasha nods. "That may be, but it's not something I can deal with. The again," she taps the side of her head, "I wonder if that's how certain beings can speka to me, or me to them?"
"Is that how the phantom crew works?" Shojo asks.
"Probably," Remiel says. "They act like projected matter."
"Nora mainly works by sheer stubborness. I think she defies reality and it gets out of her way," Tasha replies with a grin. The grin fades quickly, however. "But we don't really know. But if that's the case it's probably similiar to how my ship works. The whole inside isn't real, it's all projected like Remiel says. 'Ghost furniture' if you like."
"And you said the Titanians can track you via resonance, Tasha," Remy reminds. "So that's a form of communication."
"Did I say that? Gods, I hope they don't learn that I had to share that," the hybrid worries. She chews on her lip a moment then nods. "But they can. The Horse too. Probably stators the same way. It really seems to confirm Nora's idea that it's all Dark-being matter, doesn't it? Even me."
The doctor then looks as if he realizes something, and starts working on his datapad.
"Is it alright to send our scan date to Dark Horse, Tasha?" Remiel asks as he works. "Eli might still be on board if the Titanians haven't been out that way yet.."
"I don't mind, although there's always the worry it'll be intercepted. We just can't know though; too many powers with too many powers." Tasha waves the man to proceed in a frusterated, shooing style gesture. "Go ahead."
Remiel sends the data, which Harmonia will send to the hyperspace relay they placed. "Just something that struck me, but only he can confirm it.." the Karnor notes.
"Good old Eli. We should lock him in his room next time," Tasha says with an anxious grin. She looks down, kicking her feet, then shakes ehr head. "You know, Remy, I've been thinking about what stator connection. Now that I've been forced to wait, I've been thinking. Maybe I shouldn't be part of the attack group. Maybe I was too eager before? Impatient, but I think I see I can satisfy my impatience and do what's best too -- as much as I'd rather be there. I'd love to ki-" The young woman frowns. head shaking again. "What I mean is, if it can detect stators maybe it can detect me. I'll never be able to sneak up on it. I might endanger everyone even trying. So maybe Yue, Mel, the shuttle and I should wait for the attack and go for the Hall."
"Or you could be the distraction," Katie points out. "The feint that draws attention away from the real attack."
"According to your encounter with 'Abaddon' it's hostile to the Progenitors, isn't it?" Remiel asks. "Do you have the full translation of that book yet?"
"I could be. Give me something that gets its attention. The Seraph would have been wondrful for that, I could wave around gravitic effects and act menacing. Or maybe I could use Sifran magic, like Fudg-- Neesa said. Earth Magic, was it? Earth magic. Try and fake being the Seraph II, really scare it." Tasha then nods to Remiel. "Hake-bear is working on it with Yue keeping her together. With luck it'll be translated soon. I'm sure they'll contact us if they find anything major. I think the Dark-beings know who the Progenitor's gods or patrons are and are hostile to them because of that, otherwise they must have gotten in the Dark-beings' way somehow. 'Abaddon' called them 'interlopers' or ... No, meddlers. Except that's strange, becaue their meddling is what gave the Dark things their chance."
"That's assuming that 'Abaddon' knows that the Sifras are supposedly losing control," Remiel points out. "We don't know what any of these parties actually knows. We could be the ones that know more than they do about the situation."
"It's a sad universe when I know more than ancient beings," Tasha notes, turning to katie and shrugging her shoulders in a 'I don't know how this happened' apology. She grins, then turns back. "That's why I want one of the higher-ups to talk to. Besides, I don't know how long we can handle this. It's bigger than us, bigger than any one of us by far. I almost didn't come back from Sinai, I didn't want to deal with it. Poor Hake was a mess for days and she just started."
"Break it down into manageable chunks and try to not think of the big picture," Remiel suggests. "Then you can focus on what you can do and get that out of the way before dealing with the impossible stuff. For now, you need to take Mel and the Picnic Basket down to the surface and load up on island-monster chunks so we can figure out what these things are made of and what kind of biology we're dealing with."
"It always helps me to do a jigsaw puzzle by getting all the edge pieces put together first," Neesa admits.
"We don't know what the edges are though, where it all ends and where it began. We know the 'local' picture, or think we do or ... or ... " Tasha sucks in a deep breath, holding it, then exhales before dropping back on the couch. "Hokay, enough of that.b When do I launch? Give me something to do that isn't thinking about things. I like the distraction diea, though. It knows me and we beat it. I think I know enough to scare it. But right now, work."
"You collected this toporgic before," Katie says. "Did you run into any special difficulties with the crabs that time?"
"No, they kept away when we used the right settings. Just point the wing-dish, fire, and they go away. We could bring them closer, too, but we didn't do much else with them. I planned to have Eli examine them, since he's more qualified, but we're dealing with an emergency now." Tasha pushes herelf rigth back up, then stands, walking aimlessly around the room as she peaks. her hands gesture vaguely, but her gaze is on the floor. "I even wore a chunk of the stuff for a few days. Nothing happened."
"You don't put out much radiation," Remiel notes.
"I'll work on that," Tasha replies, sounding less retort than distracted mumbling. She walks around the display, like a bird looking for its next meal. "I hate waiting. Why now?" She asks no one in particular.
"What?" Katie asks. "What are you waiting for?"
"Everything." Tasha stops, turning to eye the exit. "There is so much going on, so much, and now Abaddon had to crawl out of his grave. The Bellerophon was attacked, Hake-bear migth fall to pieces, the world might follow. There are powers moving all over the place and there is somewhere I need to be. I should be fighting, or I should be going, instead we're spending days chaisng floating snails in the possibility they might help us and I'm not even qualified for it." She pulls in another breath, then shakes her head. "I just want to go. I'm tired of waiting." Her head tilts towards the door. "Unless you need me, I think I'm going to the bridge until it's time. I'm tired of thinking about it all. When there's something for me to do, pull me out of stasis."
"Well, you could go get the samples now," Remiel notes.
"Why didn't you say so! I've been waiting for a 'go get them' answer for like an hour." Tasha starts walking, heading for the door. The good doctor cna just hear ehr say, "Honestly, Remy!" before the hatch slides shut.
"She doesn't listen that well," Remiel notes to Katie.
Harmonia lands the Picnic Basket as close to the debris field as she can, on the edge farthest from the Forbidden Zone. It's near where Tasha salvaged the original batch of toporgic. The area has been cleaned up a bit, but given the shear amount of material the crabs will be at it for another year, most likely. There's a cliff of exposed 'flesh', still oozing purple goo. It doesn't look particularly organic though.
"As disgusting as ever," Tasha remarks in to the cockpit. The great machine's right arm is armed with its shaard and a net basket in its hand while the left hand seems to hold a smaller version of the Melchior itself: Shojo in his Vartan armor. Externally she sends via thought to the external speakers, "Doing okay, Shojo? We're going to head towards the main object, as close as we can and check for SPF spikes. The region may have shifted. If we can't get any closer, it'll be up to you to carve the samples, like we discussed. I'll remain here and gather the severed chunks."
"How do we check for spikes?" Shojo asks over the suit radio.
"The sky turns weird, Mel sends me alarms, and we backpeddle," Tasha jokes, but also extends Shojo's carrying hand towards the creature in the distance. "It migth be safer for you to walk ahead of me. We can keep you covered with out anetnna array and if you encounter the boarder, I can always exit the cockpit and come rescue you if your suit breaks down. Don't risk flying unless you can make a unpowered landing safely." And with that the machine makes its first step forward, then another, and is soon walking across the landscape towards the distant monster.
Nothing zooms out of the sky or pops up out of the ground. The wall of alien flesh doesn't look as if it has decayed any in it's time exposed to Abaddon's elements.. nor are there any obvious Vermax bites taken from it, so the local fauna have been avoiding the area. Shojo prepares one of his collection jars to capture some of the ooze. He has a long pair of tongs to manipulate it, so that none comes in contact with his armor. "You can put me down," he informs Tasha.
The machine kneels, unable to bend over in the normal fashion. Shojo is put down and the Titan rises once he's clear. "It's like having a miniture Mel following me around," she observes from the cockpit, grinning. "I bet you were wondering when my training was going to involve purple slime."
After Shojo has moved far enough out, Tasha moves her Titan to begin wanderinging nearby, occasssionally spearing the chunks and flicking them up in to the air only to catch themin the basket. "I'm glad we got out. If I had to sit and talk for another hour I'd have-- Well, I'd have done what I said I was going to do."
"At least you do not have pockets to put me into," Shojo notes, as he collects the more sensitive samples of fluids, being very careful not to come into contact with any of them. "I wonder at your impatience though. You may be letting fear get the better of you."
"I've thought about that with hake," Tasha admits. It would be very convienent. "And of course I'm letting fear get to me. Shojo, I've almost been killed quite a few times since I started this journey of mine. Abaddon came so close to overwriting my mind and making me kill everything and everyone I love. I have seen things and I know things. My whole world was turned upside-down when I found the Fenris. Of course I'm afraid, I'm always afraid. But this is too much Shojo. This is the whole universe, this is gods fighting, this is seeing how it all ends." Another chunk is stabbed, entirely too hard. It's tossed in to the air and dropped in the basket beside the others. "I think I'm doing very well, considering."
After sealing one jar and moving on to collect a different colored goo, Shojo notes, "It isn't your personal responsibility though. There are many terrible things happening that people are aware of, yet do nothing about.. because they can't personally make a difference. You want to rush so that it will be over, one way or another, instead of proceeding with caution and care to make sure you have all the information you can reasonably gather so that you can make an effective plan. There is no need to rush. Rushing leads to failure, no matter what the timetable of the enemy is."
"I'm rushing because I don't think I can take much more of this, Shojo." The answer comes out so clearly it even surprises Tasha; here in this barren wasteland with only another Varatn to talk to, honestly seems to flow easily for the hybrid. He can't hear her sigh over just how honest she was being, though part of her regrets that she has lost some appreciation for directness and openesss. "Well, there, I said it. I want to reach the Hall. It's been hanging over my head since I found Mel and maybe there I can put it all together, but here? Out here we just get piece after piece of a never ending puzzle. I can barely keep track of it anymore, it's endless. But to do nothing is worse; I can't do nothing anymore. It'll eat at me, and I'll keep going, and I'll keep trying, but I know myself well enough by now to know I might run out of something and I'll eitehr take too much of a risk, or go too far, or fall to pieces like Hakeber did."
"Is that the best course of action though?" Shojo asks, sealing the last of his sample jars. "I have to plan out every move I make. I cannot rush. So, I don't understand how to rush. You are assuming that you will find answers at the Hall of Souls. What if you do not? What if you still have to deal with everything using just the knowledge you have? That is something you have to plan for."
The noise the Melchior makes isn't exactly a groan, but some mental abberation of one projected from Tasha's mine in to the interpreter. The machine slows to a halt, its blade lowering. It and its pilot are quiet for some time. "What if I can't handle it?" Tasha asks at lentgh. She can't sound quiet but the volume is lower than is was before. "What if I arrive at the Hall and I'm a big disappointment? What if everything I thought I was trying for, I've forgotten or lost? What if it all breaks me?" The blade lifts infront of the Titan's face now, turning to be inspected before it's jammed in to a chunk without much enthusiasm. "Maybe I want them to judge me. I don't know who I am anymore, or what's really right, or ... " She stabs another chunk, instead flickign it off in to the distance rather than catching it. "I don't know. I'm confused, inside and out. And I'm tired but I can't stop."
"What made you want to seek out the Hall in the first place?" Shojo asks, grabbing up a few more small chunks of flesh to bag with his tongs, and searching along the wall of alien tissue for anything that might be an organ or other recognizable bit of biology.
"It was curiosity," Tasha replies, rememberign her reasoning well. "Crazy curisosity. Maybe, too, I needed something big. Something to feel big about, because, you know, until very recently I hated myself? And the world. Something to make me feel needed. But the rest was curiosity. I wanted to know so badly it hurt. I'm not even sure why. I just did." The Titan advances now, getting close to the wall of flesh now that Shojo's approach shows there is no danger of uncanny reality warping fields. "Except now I feel like I need them. Maybe I want a god, maybe I don't know what I'm doing anymore, I just keep going. Like a machine. I used to think I was making things better, moving up to a better place, but then I saw it was all the same nastiness. Now I think I'm part of the nastiness too, and what I believed was naive. Is that really who they want to meet? Do I deserve any of this, anymore? I lie, and a plot, and help pirates and ... Gods, what am I doing? I even made Hake afraid."
"You met with one of the Magi, and that one decided you could continue, didn't it?" Shojo asks, working his way back to Melchior now. "At that time, where you intent on seeking help or power from the Progenitors?"
"No, I wasn't. But I think now I didn't get it. I didn't really understand what I was up against, I couldn't. Part of me didn't accept it as real. I'd just been pulled from beign an illiterate drover who until a few years ago thought Sinai was the whole universe. I went from that to planets to stars to universes, from the docks to godlike beings I talk to more than I talk to my mother. I'm not sure if it was Nora's resilience, or my own obliviousness, or even my mind just being unable to get it, but it didn't feel like it does now. I was afraid, of course I was, but now ... " The machine turns, staring down at the smaller armored man. "Now I feel it. Part of me wants that power and that help, because I see just a bit how great it all is. I want more than hopes and feelings. What am I against all if this? It feels hard to believe this," the machine waves its free hand at itself, " ... is enough."
"Are you sure you want to approach the Progenitors as someone begging for help though?" Shojo asks. "Because.. they didn't do anything about this before. They left the problems for us to deal with or not deal with. Perhaps to make us grow up faster. Or because they were cutting their losses. What argument will you make that they need to help now? You said that the Expedition itself was somehow broken up because of the desires of those who wanted to approach the Progenitors at that time. I do not think you should try to approach them now with those same desires."
"I don't know how to not desire it, so maybe this is it Shojo. Maybe I should just toss the Markers in to the sun -- didn't they just break everything and then protect themselves? -- and leave it be. We know things are coming to an end. Maybe there's nothing we can do about it." The Titan impales another chunk, leaving it on its blade and looking at it. The face is expressionless, of course, but in the cockpit Tasha inspects it with a clinical air. Distant; she can feel her emotions shutting down. Old Tasha tugging at her mind. "Instead I'll ignore what they want and get all the power I can. Who cares if they judge me? Us? They abandoned us, now they want us to be humble? What, like they were? At elast the Source talks to me, didn't ask me to be this or that. Isn't judging me. Ahriman and Neith are probably off protecting tehir favorites anyway, so what would I do with them? Convince them, kill them?" The machine flicks the chunk off a cliff, turning back to Shojo. "Maybe I'll ask the Niss. Constru
ct a new travel body, we could all leave this galaxy. This universe, maybe. There's got to be somewhere better, right?"
"I don't know," Shojo says, standing at the feet of Melchior. "We don't know the full story. We don't have much first-hand information at all, and only corroboration from two sources regarding Sifran clients. We have access to Sifran technology via magic, but nothing more direct. We don't know if the Progenitors had even that. We may be incapable of dealing with things, or we might have more power at our disposal than the gods did, we just don't realize it. The only avenue I can suggest is to keep learning, and to not fall into panic or desperation. Things could blow up tomorrow, or in a thousand years, or never. This may have even all happened before with the First Ones or Ancients. We don't know. The Library might."
"More digging around," the machines grummbles, it's mighty taloned foot lifting to kick a boulder right off the cliff. The crash is thunderous. "Why me, anyway? No, I know. because I chose it. I was there. "At the right place and the right time to make a difference." But you know, Shojo, it all feels ugrateful. The difference. Do it all, save everything, bla," another rock it flicked off the cliff with the shaard, "bla," another, "bla," and off goes a final one. "But I guess I'll keep trying. If I go to the hall and they tell me I'm not good enough, you know what I'm going to do Shojo?" And so the machine glances back at the little man.
"I am going to tell them to go--" The description may or may not be humble, but it's certainly blasphemous," ... and then I'm going to tell them they're not good enough for me!"
"Tasha, I think that would be a bad idea," Shojo says. "You are being very emotional. Surely you have some way of calming yourself? Are you going to talk to the Titanians about any of this.. it's their job, isn't it?"
Again there's that not-quite-organic noise, though in the cockpit Tasha snorts. "Their job? It's our job. Didn't I tell you that? The Cill, the Titanians, and us. Vartans. The Cill learned what we knew and jumped in a hole with Marduk. Horus felt bad for us and let us go. The Titanains keep going because they're stubborn, or because they just weren't built to do more. I don't know. But fighting things, telling the others what's what, that was our job."
"But they are the ones with actual experience, are they not?" Shojo asks. "Aren't they how you learned most of what you know?"
"Oh and Eve killed herself, we think? Ahriman and Mafdet are off cheating, I think. Neith, Thoth and Horus, I don't know." The machine turns to eye the wall of dead monstrocity, but Tasha doesn't see it. "I meant Mafdet earlier. Mafdet, not Neith." It looks down at its blade, head shaking, checking for any damage from use. "I learned a lot from them. I'm not sure if they were hoping I'd die against Yama, though. They never emant to give me the Horse you know. They made a mistake. I think the Niss tricket them somehow, I always thought itw as strange they let me carry the Niss off like a trinket. I don't know. But they do know a lot. I don't know if they'll tolerate me learning more, though. Gabriel is concerned they might grab me."
"There is risk in learning things," Shojo admits. "But you must decide if the risk is based in reason or in fear. You brought me in because I cannot panic, or succumb to fear. I am like an AI that is mortal. But I do not think my advice is what you want to hear, or that you feel the need to seek out a higher intelligence. What of this Niss? It is something you trust?"
"Sometimes I feel like I trust everything and nothing," Tasha replies from the cockpit. seeing the shaard undamaged and her bag full, the machine turns and walks to Shojo, standing over him. "I brought you along because I thought you needed it. I brought you here not for your abilities as much as because I know how it feels to feel left out, not good enough, judged and marginalized. I only started picking people fro their abilities recently. Before itw as because I cared." The machine then kneels, lowering itself so it isn't towering over the man. "I didn't know you couldn't feel panic. There wasn't the same panic back then, anyway, but I knew I'd make mistakes and I needed help, so why not you? You seemed like you needed help, too. Right beneath all the AI-like expression," and so the machine points its monsterous finger at Shojo's chest, " ... I could see how angry you were. You're not an AI, unless AI's are angry and hide it very well. The Niss is a civilization. I won't say more here, but they'
ve helped me and I saved them. I trust them because of that, but I can't say I understand them."
"Maybe AI are all angry," Shojo says, waiting for the hand to lower so he can step into it. "Can you talk to the Niss now that the hyperspace communication system is in place?"
"Maybe. What should I say, help me I'm losing my mind, kicking rocks and probably about to be struck by lightning? The Progenitors may have heard my rant, maybe you should fly back by yourself?" The hand is lowered anyway.
Shojo steps up and settles in. "Why would they care what you think or be watching you?" he asks. "Paranoia is unhealthy."
"It is. I think I'm very unhealthy these days. Maybe I'll grow whiskers and become a Khattan next. That would show me." The fingers curl, providing a railing, and so the machine makes its way back inspecting the leftovers along the way. "A nice curse, right Shojo? I can feel good about being a failure, or paranoid, or wrong-headed then." She almost remarks on her PersoCom and their fights, but her stomach twists and she pushes it all away. Too much. "Life was simpler when mistakes meant a swat to the head. Ready?"
"I am ready," Shojo says. "Would you like me to swat you in the head later?"
"I'd prefer if you pummeled me in to the ground, I think Remy would too. It keeps him busy." The Titan steps on to the platform and turns, its free hand reaching to secure and steady itself for the trip. "Blasphemy and Anger Basket ready to return," she sends mentally to the waiting spacecraft.
Soon enough, the basket is in the lower hangar, and the decontamination equipment is ready to wash down the armor, shaard and Titan, while a robotic cart collects and seals away the specimens.
"Do you feel more comfortable around Vartans?" Shojo asks Tasha once the decontamination process is over and Melchior is being transferred back to the upper hangar.
Tasha shifts to a lower depth, giving her a chance to enjoy the indirect showering as she's routed the Titan's sensory data. Between the ranting and the shower, she feels a bit cleaner. Not clean, but cleaner. Less angry, anyway. "It's easier to be honest around other Vartans. You've heard we're a direct species? I've heard that a lot from people, even before, but I didn't see it until I started to change. Now I'm involved in politics, spying, secret plots and plans, and lies. It seemed so necessary at first, so needed, not I just feel dirty half the time. I tried to be a good Karnor, right Shojo? But Humand and Karnor are different, they're used to their cunning and their lies. Yue even told me it's a matter of Human pride."
"When you are on the bottom, you are forced to use your wits," Shojo claims. "That is why overconfidence in ones power is a fault that can be exploited. I am sure that even the Sifras have this fault."
"I bet they're really feeling ir right now. But what about us? Horus let us go, then we ended up the Khattan's Clients. Mercenaries. Even on Abaddon and Sinai it feels like we're always doing someone else's work or on the bottom. Where's the Vartan Empire, where are all our works?" The Titan's head shakes, albiet far more muted than if Tasha had done it in person. "So w're at the bottom, why are we where we are? I think I felt ashamed of being Vartan; I know my mother does even if she never said it. She wanted to be with the Jupani -- those are Sinai Karnor -- and she wanted me to be too. So why does being cunning feel so awful, and if being direct is great, why are we always being used? And why do I regret becoming more clever? The lies, the plots? Am I terrible Vartan or a terrible Karnor?"
"I do not believe Vartan ambitions run the same as other species," Shojo notes. "We want to be useful, we want family and community. But there are limits to how large a family or community can be, and those limits are the limits of our ambition. The ones that wish for conquest and riches are the broken ones, for us."
"But I have seen on Sinai that Vartans outside of their communities still gather others to them, even if those others are not Vartans," Shojo points out. "I think that reflects what our true desires are."
"So I'm both. That feels right." The Titan thumbs its left hand at itself; a strangely expressive gesture fo a forty foot machine. "See, actual Humans don't empathize with me. I'm different, but here I am doing what I'm doing. Blackwings did it too, maybe that's why I liked her? Why I still like her, even if she's an awful mess of an evil old bird. The broken ones stick together and make their own broken family, to our own limits. or, maybe not? I don't even know, Shojo." The hand lowers, pointing back at the samlelr version of itself. "But I guess you're here, and I'm here, and Liza is here. Is taht why I'm losing my mind, Shojo? Not the questions, but because everything I love is in danger? A danger I can't hunt down or even understand?"
"Has it ever been the case that your loved ones weren't in danger?" Shojo asks, as the elevator reaches the upper hanger.
The Titan reaches to scratch its nose, but stops, eying its hand with without expression. "Not like this," Tasha admits from the cockpit, eying that hand in time before lowering ti and shaking her head. "Our airship faced pirates once, when I was a child. Mom's had some scrapes, but it's always been me before. I'm the one who gets injured, not Gabriel, not Hake-bear, me. Gods, is that it? I don't know, it feels right, but the questions drive me in to a wall, too." The Titan steps off and walks who Shojo at a halting pace, sticking beside him. "Every qustion feels like more questions, but now my home is in danger, too. And I was too angry and too tired and too worked up to be much use. I made Hake afraid; I wasn't there for Gabriel."
"You made me afraid," Shojo points out. "A giant on the verge of throwing a tantrum."
"I'd never hurt you, Shojo!" The Titan reaches down and pats the air over the Vartan's head. "Though I might have been baiting you to hurt me, ir at least have it out with me. Before, I'd have drunk myself in to a stupor or, I don't know, started a fight. Being respectable isn't as much fun as I dreamed it was. And I don't throw tantrums, I vent. I get angry!"
There's a uncomfortable pause, then the machine asks, "Am I really that frightening, Shojo?"
"Yes," Shojo says. "You are supposed to make us believe we can succeed. Perhaps having Katherine with you lets you pass off that function."
"Some leader I am. Well, big dreams and big anger?" The Titan makes an exagerated shrug-like motion with its hands. "Still want to come with me? I can sign off your membership, make sure you get a good recommendation?"
"Clearly I need to prove to you that I am useful beyond you just feeling sorry for me," Shojo points out. "Someone must be around to smack you when you start to babble."
Melchior's docking cage secures the Titan automatically.
"Consider that one of your responsibilities. I can't make use feel like we can win if no one smacks me when I start babbling." Once her machine is secured, there's the expected pause in the conversation as Tasha disconnects and proceeds downto the deck. There she walks over to Shojo, rubbing at the back of her head as she goes. "Don't be too afraid," she warns him, sticking her tongue out after -- though the cant of her ears and the anxiosubness in her face shows beyond the facade of humor.
Back in the viewing room.. everyone is gone. Probably to look at the monster samples. There's a blinking light on the table panel however, indicating a message.
"Why does this light make me nervous?" Tasha asks Shojo, both now free of their armored space suits. She leans over and hesitates a moment before pokeing the light with a frown.
A message displays, in text: Remiel, the data you sent is scary. However, I've run some calculations and I think your notion has some weight. We could never figure out exactly why anyone would build a ship like this, at an expense that could have build a fleet. But my preliminary calculations show that the hull makeup and Maelstrom travel could indeed breach a gravity shield that your monster may be capable of putting up for defense. The Dark Horse is a dagger. No sighting yet on the Titanians, will let you know when they show up. Eli out.
"Ooooooh," goes Tasha, fingers wiggling in the air as she leans back. "Oooh. A dagger." She turns back and grins at Shojo -- then realizes how she must look.
The fiendish malice vanishes in an instant; Tasha smiles a little too broadly, then wiggles her ears. "Ha, ha?" She offers.
The smack is light, and just on the cheek. "A dagger," he says. "Didn't we find out about a Hammer when we were with the Knights Templar on Sinai?"
Tasha rubs her cheek anywaym but smiles more genuinely. Her ears wiggle once more. "Ther's the supply of them in the Titanic, is that what you mean? I didn't get one, I think I left with knowledge of wisdom or something I'd trade for a Hammer right now."
"There are many of them?" Shojo asks. "The one they talked about was for destroying mountains."
"Oh that one, of course they have that one. But there are others, all hidden away. Why, want to go get one?" The young woman asks as she walks over and flops back on the couch, patting the area beside herself.
Shojo sits, without flopping. "They are made of the space-warping metal, are they not? The one possessed by the Cobalt Lance was very powerful. Perhaps it would be of use against the beast."
"I don't think they'll give it up, but the Titanic might. That's a long trip,m but the two of us can do it. The Titanic is the oldest Titanian ship, it'd be holy if Titanians went in for temples and such. I think Lore might help us -- he might even help us understand more about what we've been trying to figure out. The ship might have even been around when Titanians, vartans and Cill were all on the same team." After saying her part, Tasha wiggles her muzzle a bit, then shifts an leans against Shojo instead. After a second, she admits, "I think I miss my Vartans," is a rather flat and conciliatory way.
"You should spend some time with them," Shojo says. "Fight with the Colonel. Go flying and hunting. Basic, physical things."
"I should. I've been avodiing the Vartans of Abaddon because I was trying to avoid appearing to favor the Confederacy -- I thought people might expect that and they already were assuming the worst about what I was -- but since the Expedition has tricked me in to gathering Karnors it's probably too late to appear neutral." Tasha scootches along the couch until her head is resting against Shojo's knee. She opens and closes her moth several times, working out what to say until at last she just offers, "Sorry," unable to think of anything better.
"Maybe you should rest for now then," Shojo says. "I promise not to move," he adds.. possibly as an attempt at humor.
"And I ... I can't promise anything." Tasha rolls again, head stretched out the long way, eyes closing. She scratches her nose a moment, then shifts in to a half-curled ball. "But I wasn't wrong about you, Shojo."